Porning Mumpkin Juice
by fantasticarla
Summary: In which Snape has a particularly humourous verbal slip up, and Harry is puzzled.


This is a story inspired by one of me and Danielle's stupid conversations that led to us doubled over with hysterics and gasping, "We should totally make a fic about this!" So, here it is. Our fic. In which Snape has a particularly humourous verbal slip up, and Harry is puzzled.

J.K. Rowling owns them, it's not mine, yadda yadda yadda. Just read it.

"…**DARK MARK**!"

Harry choked on his treacle tart as he walked down the hall, his steps faltering at the unexpected words that boomed out from the darkness. His eyebrow involuntarily rose as he peeked around a corner to see a light shining from beneath a door, and he jumped as it suddenly swung open.

"Potter!" Snape growled, his hooked nose seeming to glare down on him, if that was possible. Harry was surprised to see Karkaroff roughly lower his sleeve and shove past him, muttering as he went. He stared after him as he stalked down the hall, wondering if Dumbledore knew the man he so willingly embraced at Durmstrang's arrival was a Death Eater.

Well, of course. Dumbledore knew everything.

Harry found himself being suddenly manhandled by Snape, much to his disdain.

"What—what?" he yelped, bewildered. Snape slammed the door behind him, the motion causing his greasy hair to swing slightly. Harry grimaced.

"You and your daft little _friends_ have been stealing from my supply closet again!" Snape hissed, little droplets of spittle flying from his lips and landing wetly on Harry's cheeks. He blinked rapidly a few times, pressing his mouth together so he wouldn't laugh. Or vomit.

"No, sir, actually we haven't," he replied shortly. Snape's mouth twitched and he grabbed the front of Harry's robes, as if to threaten him.

"Er," Harry mumbled, pretty certain that this was one of the worst moments of his life. Having the entire school hate him, nearly falling to his death beneath the Hogwarts express in a flying car, fleeing from a couple hundred angry acromantulas—all of that be damned. Snape looming before him, every pissed, oily pore of his pissed, oily face glowering down at him, the faint odor of onions and…stale flobberworms blowing into his face—this was the epitome of _doom_.

Snape shook him once, making Harry's teeth clack together, and then let him go to turn around and begin climbing a ladder propped against the left side of his potions cabinet.

"Boomslang skin, lacewing flies…" Snape stopped climbing and turned to survey Harry closely. "Sound familiar?" he barked.

Harry gave him a blank look. "No," he answered bluntly. "Maybe…you misplaced them," he suggested, earning a low growl from the professor before him.

"I did _not_ misplace them." Snape plucked a small bottle off the shelf and brandished it at Harry, cocking one eyebrow. "Know what this is?"

It was a small transparent bottle with what looked like water inside. "No, I don't."

"_Veritaserum_," Snape intoned, clearly enunciating each syllable, as if Harry were slow. "Truth potion. One drop of this would have the Dark Lord himself spilling his darkest secrets."

Really? If there was any reason to ever steal from Snape's stores, there it was. Although, admittedly, that seemed a bit too simple to really work. But it may be worth a try…

"Hmm," Harry murmured, eyeing the bottle interestedly. Snape looked affronted that Harry wasn't catching on.

"_What I'm saying_, Potter, is if my hand just happened to _slip_—" his hand pantomimed pouring a few drops of the serum, "into your porning mumpkin juice…" he trailed off sinisterly, giving Harry a meaningful look.

Harry's eyebrows shot up at Snape's decidedly odd words. "My…my what, sir?" he asked curiously, knowing perfectly well that this probably wouldn't be explained. No one ever explained themselves to Harry Potter.

Snape faltered at Harry's amused face. "What do you mean, Potter? I think it is perfectly clear what I—"

"No, but…but you said—my _what_ juice?"

"Your morning pumpkin juice, boy, are you deaf?"

"Professor, that's not what you said, though."

Massive lines stretched across Snape's forehead as he raked his mind, attempting to understand the difficult teenage savior before him. "Potter, plague someone else with your ridiculous questions. You are acting even more idiotic than usual."

Harry couldn't help it, he started laughing. Snape looked murderous.

"_What_ exactly is so amusing?!"

"You said…you said…" Harry clutched his sides, tears now rolling freely down his face. Snape strode down the ladder, staring at him strangely.

"Get out," he said, opening the door and pointing towards the hallway. Harry attempted to straighten, glanced at Snape, and collapsed into giggles all over again.

"Potter, for heaven's sake, get a hold of your-"

"Severus?" To Snape's dismay, Dumbledore poked his head into the small room curiously, taking in Harry's hysterics with that damnable twinkle in his eye. "Spending some quality time with your students, I see?"

"Headmaster, Mr. Potter has obviously lost his mind. I was just suggesting that he visit Madame Pomfrey—"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry gasped, clutching a stitch in his side and holding up his other hand to the two bewildered professors.

"May I ask what is so funny, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Snape simply glared. Nothing new there.

Harry expelled a large breath and finally stood up straight, looking determinedly at Dumbledore; he knew if he accidentally glanced at Snape he'd start laughing again.

"It's really quite stupid sir—it's just that…Professor Snape said…I mean, I think he mixed up his words and said—"

"I did no such thing!" Snape interrupted hotly.

"Let him speak, Severus," Dumbledore chided softly. "Go on, Harry."

"I think he meant to say morning pumpkin juice, but he said po—porning mumpkin juice," Harry finished, realizing as the words came out of his mouth how childish he was being. But really, Snape just said 'porning'!

Snape's jaw worked silently and he turned a pale pinkish color, but Harry couldn't tell whether it was from embarrassment or anger. Dumbledore's mouth was twitching.

Silence.

"Well, I guess I'll just…go," Harry said uncertainly, slipping out of the office. "Night, Headmaster, Professor." He turned to Snape and immediately upon seeing his pinched face snorted loudly and began to laugh again.

Dumbledore and Snape listened to Harry's hysterics bouncing off the stone walls as he went down the hall.


End file.
